Tell me, dear one,
Are there signposts
On the way to a man's heart?
Might one find marked
"Here lies thy way"
Across a recipe for pecan pie-
Kentucky Bourbon,
Brown sugar and butter,
Corn syrup and molasses-
Leading me like
Cholesterol precursors
Through your arteries and veins?
Would a postscript to Cinnamon Rolls
Tell me how to catch your eye,
Drenched rich in vanilla,
Spread smooth in cream cheese,
Bubbling spices bursting
Through the luscious folds uprising
In the sweet soft yeasty bread?
Could a calculation exacting
For a sinful chocolate mousse
Gauge the temperature of reception,
Whipped, full-bodied cream, atop
The spoon upon your tongue?
Is the path to a man's heart
Dusted by confectioners
And lined with apple tarts?
Is his lust gustatory
A Candyland of grown men,
A Gingerbread house of joy?
Tell me, dear one; do not lie.
For the cookbooks are ready,
Greased are the pans,
The oven door is open,
I'm waiting for the man.
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